


Missing Coffee

by khrG27lover



Category: CSI Las Vegas
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-28
Updated: 2012-04-28
Packaged: 2017-11-19 02:06:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/567838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khrG27lover/pseuds/khrG27lover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone steals Greg's coffee</p>
            </blockquote>





	Missing Coffee

Title: Missing Coffee  
Author: clvhitter  
Fandom: CSI Las Vegas  
Disclaimer: i don't own them...I just play with them as I wish  
Summary: Someone steals Greg's coffee  
  
Greg sat behind his desk running blood samples that had been brought in earlier. Yawning he looks at the wall clock, "Man its been 3hrs since my last coffee. Think its time to remedy that."

Sliding across his lab on his ever present stool, he makes it to the door before standing and walking the rest of the way to the break room. He wanders over to the empty coffee pot and shakes it with a frown. Replacing the filter and filling the pot with water he took a quick look around before pulling out a container marked "Greg's Private". Opening it he pulled a bag out , taking a whiff as he broke the seal. "Mmm...Blue Hawaiian," he thought as he put 2 full scoops in the filter before turning it on. Taking another quick look around, before he again hid the container, before heading back to his lab.

After 30mins, Greg puts the last sample results in the proper file in his outbox before heading to the break room for his long awaited coffee. Whistling, he made his way to the break room where the night shift was currently unwinding from their last case. Giving them a quick nod, he made his way over to 'his' pot, only to discover that his freshly brewed pot was gone. The pot was completely dry, as in bone-freaking-dry. Rubbing a hand over his overly spiked hair, Greg turned to the team, putting his hands on his hips.

'Any of you have any coffee in the last 10 minutes?'

Flicking the sports page, as he turned the page Nick grinned 'Nope, can't say that I have. What about you Warrick?'

'I'm only having soda, not coffee' the black man said from his spot on the couch.

'You may want to talk to Gil.' Catherine Willows said, grabbing her tea, "he was leaving with a mug of something when I was entering."

Hearing that Greg bolted out of the break room, and down the hall to Grissom's office. Sliding to a stop outside the night supervisor's office, he tapped on the door frame, 'hi.'

'Something I can do for you Greg?' he asked, smiling at the way the lab tech was glancing around his office.

'Was just wondering, if you had...um...taken a cup of coffee in the last 10 minutes or so?' Greg asked, sitting on the edge of the easy chair in the corner of Gil's office.

'Are you keeping tabs on how often I have coffee Greg?' he asked, quirking his eyebrows

'No just curious. I made a pot of my special coffee and when I went to get it, the whole pot was empty.'

'Remember Greg, if it's coffee people will drink it. Most importantly if it's your coffee, they will come.' Grissom chuckled.

'So if it wasn't you or anyone else on the team, who was it?' Greg pouted

'You could check with Hodges, he had left a few minutes before I went in.'

'Hodges?! Of course.' Greg said as he hurried out of the office and down the hall to Trace.

Hodges turned to Greg, just as the younger man opened the doors and with a face splitting grin, drank the last of his mug of coffee.

'Now that's good coffee' he smirked.

Greg's eyes went wide, before he dropped to the floor on his knees. 'NOOO!'

'Don't feel bad Sanders.' Hodges said with fake sincerity, 'you can always make more.'

Getting to his feet, Greg glared at the tech before going back to the break room. After literally pushing everyone from the room, he locked the door behind them before making another pot.

Sitting back and putting his feet up on the table he completely ignored the knocking, as he drank his fresh pot.  
  



End file.
